


after the storm

by sadie18



Series: a study in pining [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Character Study, Dreams and Nightmares, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Literal Sleeping Together, M/M, Pining, Pre-Relationship, Sharing a Bed, Sleep, perhaps???
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-11
Updated: 2019-09-11
Packaged: 2020-10-13 06:44:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20578196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sadie18/pseuds/sadie18
Summary: harry is observant. he notices theo.a study in moving on





	after the storm

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr @oliivverwood

Harry noticed Theo on the second day of eighth year, after slamming into his charms class three minutes late, his wand held between his teeth while he juggled his textbooks. Ron had saved him a seat, in the second row, and he made his way there abashedly while Flitwick gave him a playful wag of his finger and people giggled around him.

Theodore Nott sat in front of him, his figure somewhat slouched, in contrast to the perfect poise Daphne Greengrass held sitting next to him. 

Harry had never spoken to Theo before, or really accounted for his existence too much- he'd always been one of Draco's cronies, another puppet in the grand scheme of Voldemort. 

In the back of his mind, Harry remembered overhearing Lavender say in sixth year that Theo and Daphne were an item.

He pushed the thought away, rummaging through his bag as Flitwick began his class.

* * *

Theo had green eyes and black hair, the same as Harry. However, his hair was not a nest of mess and knots on his head, instead immaculately combed, and his eyes were not a bright emerald, but rather a deep forest green.

Harry learned this in the eighth year boys’ dorms, on the fourth week of semester.

_Theo’s bed is across from his, in between Draco’s and Blaise’s. His trunk is kept under his bed, and he pulls it out when he needs things from it. He hangs his uniform for the next day before he goes to bed, folds his socks and makes his bed in the mornings._

_Theo has nearly perfect wandwork in classes, third best in the class at brewing potions, spends his free time reading textbooks or playing chess with Blaise, and never loosens his tie, even when class is over._

_Theo doesn’t regard Harry with his hero status, and frankly, doesn’t really regard him at all. He nods at him respectfully when they’re in the loo, getting ready for the day at the same time, or when they pass each other in the corridors and accidentally make eye contact._

Harry filed this all away, tucking it in some secret corner of his mind, that only made a reappearance when he was least expecting it. He was no stranger to obsession- and welcoming any semblance of familiarity made Harry remember what life was like before there was a war and everything went to _shit_.

* * *

Theo’s father was arrested after the war, by Shacklebolt himself.

Harry honestly doesn’t remember too much about the Battle of Hogwarts. It was a sensory overload, after all, a haze of screams and too bright spells, breaking families apart and forming new ones. He remembers Nagini, Neville, rolling out of Hagrid’s arms, Draco throwing his wand at him, ending it all. He remembers seeing Dean and Seamus embrace and Parvati holding Lavender’s hand while her werewolf bite got treated. He remembered Luna shrieking, her calm exterior long gone, as she pelted the enemy with spell after spell.

Harry also remembered seeing Theo hold a wand to the throat of of a low-level Death Eater, one Harry didn’t know by name. He saw a flash of light from Theo’s wand, and a body hitting the floor.

It was a funny thing, war.

* * *

Harry doesn't sleep well. 

It's a given, after his lifelong battle with death, and when it was finally over, Harry kept himself awake every night wondering if there was any purpose to him at all. 

Even though the war was over, the struggle in his mind, the one that crept out and kept him in the clutches of sleep, was still ongoing. His dreams were abstract, eerie and frightening, to say the least, and he dreaded going to bed at night, silencing his closed curtains and willing every night to be the last night he'd have to wake up screaming, scrabbling for his wand under the pillow. 

* * *

_Lily Evans and James Potter are sitting on the loveseat in their warm home in Godric's Hollow. The wind is loud out, tonight, the branches from a tall oak tree outside tapping against the glass windows of their home. They look joyful, unrealistically so, clutching a bundle of blankets. Harry approaches the happy family, his feet dragging with dread. _

_This is a dream, after all, and none of Harry's dreams are kind to him._

_Lily looks up from her child, looks at Harry, but it's like he's glass. Her eyes, the same ones Harry has, simultaneously bore into him and look right through him. Her happy face melts from a kind smile, one that reaches her eyes, to horror, her mouth cracking open in a scream. _

_A green light. A desperate shout. A wail._

_It's over._

_Harry catches his reflection in a window. A pale face, a cruel mouth, a deformed nose looks back at him, grinning ruthlessly. _

* * *

Nobody sleeps well. Nothing is the same. 

Ron can't even stand being near the fireplace in the common room. Hermione holes up in the library, researching memory charms, forgetting to eat and drink and sleep and _breathe. _Ginny flies recklessly, swinging around the beater's bat that had once been Fred's. 

Draco Malfoy doesn't strut or swagger or even dare _speak _anymore. Pansy Parkinson pulled out of Hogwarts after two days of classes. 

Theo Nott is included in this bracket. 

* * *

Harry woke up after one particularly cruel nightmare, that had his clothes soaked with sweat and his hands shaking uncontrollably. 

Hogwarts, a harbour of many good memories for Harry, is his home. But it's been tainted. Harry doesn't venture into the Astronomy Tower, doesn't enter the Forbidden Forest, avoids the Room of Requirement, and shies away from the bridge when he can. 

The one place in the entire school that Harry feels completely, utterly safe in, is the quidditch pitch. Even with the dementors, even with the Lockhart-fiasco, even with the Triwizard tournament, the pitch feels untouched, innocent. Harry knows blood has been spilled there- but it's swallowed up by the grass and happy moments and it just feels _right. _

He doesn't dwell too much on it- he just goes. 

There's already someone there, when he arrives, while wearing only his ratty pajama bottoms and an old Weasley sweater. Theo Nott is lying on the ground, and for a terrifying second, Harry thinks he's dead, quickening his pace.

He's not dead. 

Theo is relaxed out in the centre of the pitch, a lantern sitting quietly next to him, his arms folded behind his head. He's lanky, has at least three or four inches on Harry, his long legs stretched out languidly ahead of him.

Harry turns to leave, but Theo catches him first, jolting up, his wand pointed firmly at him. Harry reflexively draws his too, and tries to ignore the shake in his hand. 

"Potter." His voice breaks, in relief, and he sounds embarrassed. He lowers his wand immediately, but even in the dim lamplight, Harry can see his knuckles white with his grip. 

"Sorry." Harry murmurs. "Couldn't sleep." 

"Well." Theo's voice is obviously aiming for light, but it falls short, landing more on nervous. "There's room for the both of us here. I won't bother you." 

Harry nods in thanks, settling himself a meter away from the lamp that separated them, looking up at the stars. They were painfully bright, millions of them dotting the clear Scottish night sky. 

_'Mum.' _Harry thinks to himself, pinpointing them. '_Dad. Sirius. Remus. Tonks. Fred. Dumbledore. Cedric.' _

He repeated the sentiments, tried to name every star in the sky. He'd do it for the rest of his life if only they would be brought back. 

He turned, glancing at Theo, who had his eyes only parted slightly, his eyelashes hanging low, his skin especially fair under the pale moonlight and soft lantern glow.

* * *

Harry joins Theo almost every night, from then. 

They talk, sometimes, about everyday things like breakfast that morning, or something silly Hagrid said, but normally it's silent, just Theo, Harry, and the moon. More often than not, Harry falls asleep- it's paradoxical, how he feels unsafe in the security of his bed, but not the open, exposed stretch of pitch. When he does drift into slumber, his mind is cleared- the worst his dreams will get is _vaguely discomforting. _

Theo falls asleep too, on the pitch, and shakes Harry awake early in the morning. They trek back to their dorms quietly, wands and map out.

When Harry introduces Theo to the Marauders' Map, Theo looks on in awe, tracing the lines with one long index finger and following the dots with his rapt attention. He smiles softly when Harry tells him about the rambunctious group his father was in, the tale of Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs.

It's a nice feeling, being able to talk about his parents without the overcast worry of them running straight to the papers. 

* * *

It rains. 

Harry should've been expecting it, he supposed, but when it began to rain on Friday afternoon, he hoped and prayed with all his might that it would stop. 

By midnight, the water was still chucking down, tapping against the windowsill ominously, and Harry was reminded of multitudes of horrifying nightmares.

He caught Theo's eye, in the common room, just as the last people were filtering out. He looked nervous, his eyes flitting towards the window and twitching ever so slightly at the clap of thunder that would rumble the castle and groan through the night. When finally, it was just the two of them, they scrambled towards each other. 

"What now?" Theo said slowly, sounding pained, his mouth crumpling into a frown. 

Harry had tried sleeping in his own bed, a couple times. He'd tried sleeping in other spaces in the castle, but _every_ _single time, _he was disrupted by his own mind, evil memories and an overactive imagination corrupting his thoughts and poisoning his peace. 

Sometimes, Ron and Hermione crept into bed with him, and all was well- but not as much as they crept into bed together. 

Being lonely was a dastardly feeling. Harry wished it didn't reach him so often. 

"I-" Theo flushed furiously, and Harry looked on in wonder, because Theo Nott was always put together, always in check, and seeing him _blush _was incomprehensible. It didn't look right. It didn't _feel _right. "I can't sleep _alone."_

* * *

Harry and Theo are _too _similar- the way they look, the way they act, the way they _feel. _

* * *

Harry unintentionally tunes out the rest of Theo's stammered explanation, something about how normally there was Blaise or Pansy or Millicent or Draco and there was always _someone, _and instead, Harry grabs Theo's arm, silencing him effectively, instantly, and pulls him gently up the stairs, keeping hold of him as they reached the junction between their beds, smiling slightly at the soft snoring coming from the other beds. Harry is glad for the size of the bed, because they're both big boys, and he softly pushes Theo onto it, who obediently tucks hie legs in, letting Harry follow. He closes the curtains and crawls under the covers, gesturing for Theo to do the same. When the both of them are settled, facing each other, Theo looks slightly awkward, but grateful- it radiates off the small upward curve in his mouth, and for the first time in a while, Harry _feels something, _a little niggling feeling in his chest. 

"Good night." He murmurs quietly, before shutting his eyes, and he feels _hopeful. _

* * *

They're all tangled up, by the time Harry wakes up in the morning, legs jumbled with legs, and Theo's arm is slung over Harry's chest like it belongs there. His face looks innocent, cherubic in sleep, and Harry can't fight the small grin that reaches his face when he realises one of his hands is loosely clutched by one of Theo's.

He'd slept dreamlessly, after all. 

**Author's Note:**

> title from kali uchis's "after the storm"


End file.
